


Using Art to Remember You

by kukijpg



Category: Arslan Senki | Heroic Legend of Arslan
Genre: Canon Compliant, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, they are basically married tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 19:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3862153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kukijpg/pseuds/kukijpg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The scariest part of being in a long-distance relationship is forgetting how to love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Using Art to Remember You

_On quiet nights like these, Narsus would take out his easel. Eram was out on evening patrol, guarding the border with his bow. The kid was a total sweetheart. Narsus freed his family from slavery, yet the kid wanted to serve him following the will of his parents. Eram was like a son to him._

Big puddles of oil paint were smeared all over his painting palette, mixed in countless shades ready to be used. If he wasn’t planning to paint on an empty canvas, the palette itself looked like a magnificent piece of art. The cold colours on the side near the hole meant for his left thumb faded towards the warm ones. Only white and black were trapped in a corner, contrasting with the lively colour-fest. His brushes were also set up near his easel, arranged based on size and hardness. The empty canvas on the wooden frame deserved to be treated with the gentlest care in the world.

Inspiration filled his mind. Fragments of a certain tanned friend invaded his imagination. Like the golden eyes which he could stare in forever, or his biceps that bulged like cannons whenever he drew his sword. Narsus hadn’t had an intimate conversation with Daryun in nearly three years. Nor had he been intimate with him. Ever since he forfeited his title as Lord of Dairam after his sly ruse and became this simple hermit that resides in the mountains. Their only contact consisted of letters or brief visits whenever Daryun was near during field training. After all, the King had expelled him from the court and banned his connections to the army. His contact with Daryun remained but only in secrecy. 

* * *

Daryun still remained to be his closest friend through the distance they shared. He didn’t know why they even became friends in the first place. They stuck together during training camp in the Parsian army resulting from this complicated relationship. Their opinions clashed a lot. Art was one of the things they argued the most about. The loud man had badmouthed ‘all’ of his works, it offended Narsus deeply. Daryun appreciated the works of others, yet he discouraged him to continue his hobby. His closest friend just hadn’t seen his private collection yet. He never will, Narus hoped. Revealing his private collection of portraits to the person who was portrayed was at the bottom of his list he wished to do. Narsus valued his private collection the most.

Therefore the aspiring artist only showed his collection of landscapes paintings to the public. Narsus did like to paint landscapes, but he quickly became tired of the same yet stunning view of the mountains. As a strategist, he basically could remember every detail of any map. The strategist couldn’t control the weather though. The weather created a different view every day.

He had gotten accustomed to all the weather changes, having lived in the mountains for almost three years. The first year living there, the mountain-view inspired him greatly. But after the following two years, he knew what he could expect. Clear or foggy mountaintops, rain or sunshine, he had seen them all. Therefore his way of painting landscapes differed. He gave less and fewer details to the actual view, giving them an abstract touch. Abstract art wasn’t really appreciated by the people. Surprisingly, his easily pissed off comrade hadn’t badmouthed nor complimented those. But he did once tell him that his portraits were the most horrible things he had ever witnessed. Daryun knew nothing of art, Narsus always told himself.

Their little discussions about art were entertaining he had to admit. Pissing off that stupid partner of his was one of his favourite things to do. The great warrior lacked some common sense when it came to art. Maybe one day, Daryun will come to his senses about his artistic skills. That would be the day Narsus will show him his private collection and prove him wrong.

Narsus could recall the smallest details of his body, yet he couldn’t recall the whole appearance of the man that haunted his dreams. He had seen the gorgeous man countless of times. Packed under his armour, in his casual baggy clothes, and naked while his beautiful long strands were covered with sweat while he was slapping against his own bare skin. Calling them just close friends would be incorrect; they definitely had crossed that line the first time they got drunk together while they were young and careless. Bless their drunk-horny asses. They were definitely an item. Anyone could see that, there was no need for announcing it. Yet, their current relationship was hard to define. All he knew was that they were still together despite the distance that separated them.

* * *

 There was no need to outline his painting with a pencil. Narsus knew exactly what he wanted to paint. Instead of Daryun’s body parts, he could easily map out, he wanted to try something different. His mind allowed him to put the pieces together, creating a complete yet blurry image. There was no time to lose. He simply dabbed his brush onto his palette without thinking. Any random colour was fine. Art had no limits. The excess of red oil paint dripped off the brush, dirtying the hard wooden cabin floor.

Before Narsus could start painting his new masterpiece, a familiar voice called out to him from outside. He was irritated because of the interruption, the artistic side of him finally came out of its cage. Besides the irritation he was feeling, Narsus was happy to receive a visit from Daryun. His inspiration slipped away into reality.

Seeing the man in the flesh was definitely better than seeing him in his dreams. Daryun still had that shit eating grin on his face when he was insulting his hobby. He was in a lesser state than Narsus remembered him to be. Daryun had fought; his armour was still wet from being washed, to clean the bloodstains. He looked tired, but not as tired as the kid next standing next to him. The son of the King Andragoras, prince Arslan. The poor kid looked horrible. Behind the smile, he could see the sadness in those clear blue eyes that clouded them. He had heard several things about him from Daryun.

“How dare you interrupt my precious painting-time, Daryun.” Narsus drew his paintbrush as if it were a sword, the red paint almost splattered on Daryun’s face but missed. The man didn’t even back off, his shit-eating grin was blinding him. “Oh well, looks like I came right on time.” Their usual banter about art continued. Daryun said that he had to thank him for stopping a piece of garbage into the world. If he were someone else, Narsus would have already killed him. Fortunately, the prince interrupted their little banter before hell would break loose.

Knowing that his visitors were tired and definitely could use some warmth, he invited them in. Daryun would have barged in anyway. Narsus, actually Eram, offered them grub. They talked over some fine wine, the exception for the kids. Narsus told Arslan the story of his stratagem from five years ago. Arslan was focused on his story, meanwhile, Daryun proudly nodded along. The young prince was amazed, it was adorable.

He understood Daryun’s protectiveness towards him, it wasn’t a duty anymore. The kid had captured his heart as well. The story about the sudden invasion and Kharlan’s betrayal, made Narsus’ anger boiled up. “How dare they threaten their precious young Prince?!” He felt his heart breaking when Arslan said that his own flesh and blood, also known as his father, despised Daryun and him. Even for the infamous King, that was cruel. 

* * *

After putting Arslan to bed and dismissing Eram for the night, Daryun and he drank their wine and continued their conversation. Their very first intimate conversation in years, it was. They had a lot of catching up to do. The conversation only consisted of Arslan and the trip that lead them here. Here in the humble little mountain cabin of Narsus, thousands of feet away from where they battled. Daryun let his guard down when he was with Narsus. He was obviously comfortable with the presence of his sassy old friend. The tension in his muscles disappeared the more Narsus tried to divert the topic.

Both bodies unconsciously shifted towards each other seeking for comfort and warmth. The familiar touches yet seemed so foreign. Albeit Daryun’s brief visits in those lonely three years, they never had enough privacy. Nor the time to actually explore each other's bodies intimately. Not that it mattered a lot after all their relationship wasn’t fixated on just intercourse.

Their friendship mattered more. Yes, they were partners, but most of all they were friends. The closest form possible, in the healthiest way too. Perhaps it was the alcoholic fluid or the adrenaline of reuniting rushing through their bodies, the sexual tension was high. Three years of bottled up sexual frustration. Though his tired appearance, Daryun still managed to catch his eye. Narsus shamelessly eyed his tipsy closest partner-friend, mapping him out for future reference. Daryun did the same, his golden eyes solely focused on the bare skin at the base of his neck.

Daryun had always loved to watch Narsus squirm under him when he sucked at the vein next to his Adam apple. And when he finally did connect his lips to it, the platinum blond fell apart. He kept on abusing the little patch, the redness clearer and clearer, practically vibrant against his light skin. Narsus was by any means no weakling, yet when he’s under the control of the only man that can make him feel like one, he had no control of his own muscles. He grabbed Daryun’s forearms as support and straddled his partner’s lap.

The said man had removed his shirt in spite of the welcoming heat, his abs dangerously close to his body. The dim candlelight highlighted the muscle definition. Narsus appreciated the view, very much so. His fingers greedily caressed the hard muscles, rubbing circles into the rough skin, his nails brushing over the shivering body. The red marks blended into the beautiful sun-kissed skin like it was a painting itself.

“If you keep using my skin as a canvas for your terrible art, I will literally flip you over on this very moment and fuck you till you can’t see colours anymore, do you understand?” Daryun threatened him, grunting slightly because of the teasing touches. Daryun removed his upper clothes at an incredibly fast time. Every inch of exposed skin was welcomed by Daryun’s open mouth, his tongue tracing popped up veins all over his body. The threat and the sensual touches only motivated Narsus to keep on going. “I swear it Narsus, stop or you will regret it tomorrow morning when you can’t walk straight anymore.”

“Oh please, don’t overestimate yourself.” Narsus kept teasing him. He knew what Daryun’s weaknesses were after having played this little game with him for years. The slight tickling sensation on the patch of skin on his own throat proved that Daryun remembered his too. His nails scratched Daryun’s hair softly, releasing the beautiful locks from the ponytail. The black strands flowing through his fingers were like flowing water. His hands followed the falling strands behind Daryun’s back, playing with the glorious waterfall called Daryun’s hair. He pulled them slightly, earning a grunt from the victim. His golden eyes lit up. Pure gold was nothing compared to this bright colour.

He wasn’t surprised when he was literally flipped over on the dining table. Daryun crawled on top of him, finally locking their lips. It was by any means no chaste kiss, lips clashed with the passion of a thousand warriors. Hands were all over the place, holding and grabbing each other as if their life depended on it. The passionate kissing became sloppier as the touching became more intimate. Narsus swatted his hands away when Daryun pulled the rope on his pants loose. His own nails trailed from the sweaty abs to his mouth, signalling Daryun to be silent.

“Not here. Upstairs. On my bed.” Narsus commanded him, earning a lustful glare in return. But Daryun did as he said. Once they gathered their clothes which were all over the place, they rushed to the bedroom. Hands never stopped groping. Their touches were as passionate as their unresolved frustration. Sounds were almost inaudible, occasional grunts and erratic breathing filled the room. Never saying sappy shit, they never did. Both of them knew what the other was feeling, their actions spoke louder than words anyway. Daryun and he weren’t even on the bed yet when Daryun stopped him after locking the door. The hard wooden floor creaked when he dragged Daryun to the floor with him.

Daryun’s calloused fingertips dipped under his underwear, feeling up the skin he hadn’t felt in a long time. Every touch burned into his flesh, hands never touching his most sensitive body part. Tired of being teased, Narsus leaned over and grabbed his firm ass. Daryun stopped his movements, his left eyebrow rose up. The suggestive smirk on Daryun’s face was hard to miss. They stopped their heated movements, hands still lingering on each other. Afraid of letting go, enjoying this very moment to the fullest. Their challenging eyes inviting the other, daring to level their little battle up.

Their bodies molded into each other like clay, creating a masterpiece themselves. The only paint that was necessary, their fluids completing it. Both were forgetting their lonely years without the luxury of being able to be intimate. Using only their unspoken words as weapons on the battlefield called trust and love.

_Reuniting with his old friend made Narsus remember how it was to have unlimited inspiration._

 

**Author's Note:**

> ＼(ﾟｰﾟ＼) Voila. The 5th D/N fic this fandom has to offer. Can you feel the pain in [my soul](http://saikoi.tumblr.com/) yet?


End file.
